December 19th - December 25th 2005
Sunday South Bank
Saturday Ring-fenced
Friday Tom Utley
Thursday Bass camp
Wednesday Very festive
Tuesday Fessing up
Monday Not news
Christmas Day 2005
South Bank, Winter 2005
Saturday 24th December 2005
Overheard at the office
A: Did you see the Sun's headline today?
B: 'Elton takes David up the aisle' ?
A: I wish we could do that. Speaking of which.. this photo caption?
B: 'Sir Elton shows off his "wedding ring"'?
A: Why do we have quotes round 'wedding ring'?
B: Because, as a decent-thinking, right-leaning, family-oriented newspaper, we cannot possibly endorse - or be seen to endorse - the dread possibility that two poofs pair-bonding is, in any way, shape or form, remotely equivalent to the sacred institution that is heterosexual marriage.
A: "Wedding" rather than wedding, then?
B: Precisely so.
A: Given that this particular picture is actually about jewellery rather than marriage, I'm wondering whether we actually need the word 'wedding' in there at all. Then we could lose the quotes.
B: 'Sir Elton shows off his ring'?
A: Hmmm.
Friday 23rd December 2005
Tom Utley, Daily Telegraph homophobe columnist, apologises. Kinda:
Many years ago, I wrote an extremely offensive article about homosexuals and homosexuality, which I have bitterly regretted ever since. It was in my early days as a columnist on this newspaper, and I suppose that I was trying to make an impact. In that, I succeeded brilliantly..
I was hailed as a hero on obscure American websites, broadcast from the Bible Belt. It struck me that almost all my most vociferous admirers used their religion as an offensive weapon, a means of sanctifying their hatred of their fellow man. I didn't want friends like these, but I'm afraid that I deserved them.
My intemperate article had a wide circulation among homosexuals who did not normally read The Daily Telegraph..To this day, I meet Guardian readers at parties, who tell me when I have introduced myself: "Oh, yes. Tom Utley. You're the gay-basher, aren't you?"
One gay colleague, whom I have always liked very much, refused to speak to me for a full two years after that article appeared.. A couple of months ago, Desmond asked me to a party, and no invitation has ever given me greater pleasure. At long last, the big freeze was over, and I was at least partially forgiven.
I hope that Desmond will believe me, therefore, when I say that I genuinely, wholeheartedly, rejoiced when I saw Sir Elton John on television yesterday, tying the knot in Windsor with his long-time lover, David Furnish..
I found myself actually chuckling with pleasure, because the couple's happiness was so palpable, and happiness is so infectious..
I will not pretend that I have changed my views about what Sir Elton and his partner get up to in private, but.. I dare say that they would find some of my habits pretty disgusting, too.
I cannot think of any other Act passed by this Government that has given so much pleasure, at so little cost, to so many people..the Civil Partnership Act is probably one of the least bad measures that this Government has put into law.
Now I am going to spoil it all, and risk being frozen out again by Desmond, by repeating my belief that the CPA is an utter nonsense, in the most literal sense of the word, and that gay marriage can only ever be a ludicrous parody of the real thing....
Thursday 22nd December 2005
It is with considerable joy that we find ourselves able to announce that, late last night, after a slow start and considerable communication problems, the Anglo-Brazilian expedition finally reached Base Camp (via the White Swan).
As is traditional in these circumstances, a total radio black-out will now be maintained.
Wednesday 21st December 2005
Hold on to your party hats, ladies and gentlemen, because here we go: the dizzying spin down into Christmas has begun.
It began, of course, several months ago, just as soon as the first 'Festive Offers' began appearing on supermarket shelves.
(And let's take a grateful moment to acknowledge that, subsequent to the egg left on retail faces after last year's longest Christmas ever, this year has been comparatively bearable.)
My preparations stretch just about as far as making sure I've arranged a lift into work on Christmas Day, and having a working knowledge of which bars are open on what nights.
But elsewhere, around about now, one imagines the dystopia-management plans slotting neatly into place: the valium and the blank video tapes stockpiled, the last cards despatched, the endless items on endless lists mostly crossed out with only the odd angry asterisk remaining.
And all that remains is the accelerating slide into eat, drink, quarrel with your boyfriend.
I expect to be away for a few days over New Year but otherwise Blogadoon will continue its regular irregular schedule: my thoughts go out to you at this very special time of the year.
Tuesday 20th December 2005
David, when asked his opinion on my previous lengthy entry on, ahem, Truth in Photography, kindly refrained from saying it was a load of pretentious old wank - but did accuse me of omitting to fess up to manipulating the image of Liverpool Street station:
Which, one way or another, just goes to show how closely he reads what I write, given I described it as something 'which, I think, most anybody who cares enough to think about will realise is the result of some laborious compositing (the blur, though, is 'real')."
Which, on closer consideration, just goes to show how much I remember of the degree of manipulation some of these images have undergone.
Because, on digging out the original images, I see that the blur is about as far from 'real' as you can get:
Ah well. Truth in Photography: it's out there somewhere.
Monday 19th December 2005
One of the more interesting aspects of being in charge of the night shift at the web site of a national newspaper is having to handle all sorts of calls from disgruntled readers who cannot, or will not, appreciate that the vast majority of the site's commercial operations is handled by people who have long since been tucked up with their Ovaltine.
As with the man who rang around 9pm last night demanding to know how he went about placing an on-site announcement of the birth of his son.
I suspect he was slightly drunk (they often are): he seemed to have considerable difficulty comprehending that not everything one finds in the paper finds its way onto the site.
"Besides which, the people who would handle all that have long since gone home," I explained. "We're really just a skeleton crew looking after News", managing not to add: "So unless it's a virgin birth..."
......previous week
